Blind
by trufflemores
Summary: "One of them is blind . . . but which one?" Kurt and Blaine share a peaceful moment on a summer evening. Based off kettlebag's drawing. Kurt/Blaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

Blaine smiles as he traces his thumbs over Kurt's hips in light, meaningless patterns. Kurt stands patiently before him, sculpted and idyllic, surrendering to his questing fingers without protest. Mapping out the length of his sweater, Blaine's hands pause over Kurt's ribs, stroking the soft material lightly. "What is this?" he asks quietly, his voice barely carrying over the sounds of lonely crickets and grass shifting in the wind. They haven't had a summer night like this in weeks, a night that Carole, Burt, and Finn have left them to their own devices. It's a pleasant contrast to the stolen moments on the couch, being able to stand outside and simply savor one another's presence.

Startling when he feels a pair of hands cup his face, Blaine relaxes when Kurt traces his own thumbs over his cheekbones. "Hennes & Mauritz," he answers, soft and easy. "It's cotton with a striped shawl." He lifts Blaine's hands to touch his collar, dragging his thumb over the stripes demonstratively. "There's also a toggle button." He shifts their hands until they graze the beige-colored toggle nestled comfortably against his chest. A small smile quirks Kurt's lips as Blaine taps his fingers against it once before intertwining their hands over his heart.

He knows that Blaine likes to know these things - his curiosity is insatiable - and it gives him a certain measure of satisfaction that he's able to remember them without difficulty. Given the right motivation, he could probably rattle off his entire wardrobe without missing a beat. Of course, there rarely comes an opportunity when he needs to, but occasionally Blaine comes over and he just wants to _know_. So Kurt sits on his bed, cross-legged and peaceful while Blaine hands him various outfits and he tells him what they are. Blaine doesn't bother to confirm his answers elsewhere, just trustingly handing them over and waiting patiently for Kurt's response.

Looking up at the night sky now, Kurt smiles, the warmth of the summer breeze washing over his face. It's already cooling off some from the hours that they'd spent at the beach earlier, lazing in the sun and occasionally dipping into the water to cool off. They've already experienced one summer together, newly dubbed boyfriends and still a little shy around each other, but this year is different. There isn't as much hesitancy or uncertainty. Even when Blaine tugs Kurt into the water he doesn't fret about his skin as much as he makes sure that Blaine doesn't trip over his own feet. They've fallen into a rhythm, a familiarity that makes Kurt's soul thrum with it, the feeling of Blaine around him. Even when they're not together it's like he can sense it, can almost feel Blaine's fingers in his own if he curls them tightly enough.

"We should head inside," Blaine points out softly, his hands disentangling with Kurt's so he can hold his sides instead, brushing his thumbs up and down slowly. "It's going to rain soon."

Kurt can sense it, too, can feel it in the air, the dampness, the freshness of incoming rain. "I don't want to leave," he says, his lips pouting out slightly.

Blaine laughs, reaching up to cup Kurt's cheeks. "You don't have to leave," he points out. "We just have to go inside."

"I don't want to do that, either," Kurt says in a petulant little murmur, mirroring Blaine's actions and stroking a thumb over his cheek. Blaine reflexively drops his arms back to hold his waist, anchoring him as Kurt inches closer, just shuffling his feet until his toes are bumping against Blaine's. His fingers slide easily around Blaine's jawbone, guiding him in until their lips meet.

He doesn't know how long it lasts. He doesn't even know when the first vague grumble of thunder calls out from the distance. He just knows Blaine's warmth and closeness and protection. How he's small but solid and remarkably steady, a beacon of strength in a world that seems constantly on the verge of falling askew. Eventually, Blaine pulls back, cinnamon lingering on Kurt's mouth as he smiles peaceably back at him. Blaine insisted on making cookies earlier and while Kurt protested that he didn't need the extra calories fleshing out his pear hips even more, Blaine just laughed and handed him one and Kurt ate it without protest. They finished the entire batch on their own, although Kurt knows Blaine heavily contributed to the cause while he simply picked off samples here and there. Now he's glad because it's like Blaine's still there, overwhelming and all-encompassing and breathtaking.

"Let's go inside," Blaine murmurs again.

Kurt hums and says nothing, just letting his fingers trace over Blaine's face, memorizing it as he's done to his own so often. They slide smoothly over his jaw, skimming briefly over his lips and tracing the edges of his nose and cheekbones gently. He pauses, surprised, when he finds Blaine's eyes closed. Normally Blaine wants to see him, to look at him when they kiss or touch or talk to each other, but now he's just breathing deeply and smiling a little, not flinching when Kurt's thumbs brush over his closed eyelids.

"What does it look like?" he asks quietly, his own curiosity overwhelming him.

Blaine shrugs a little. "Not half as beautiful as you," he says, shifting Kurt's hands away slightly. Kurt moves them without further instruction, knowing that Blaine's eyes are open now, crinkling a little at the corners the way they do when he smiles. "It's stunning. There's just … hundreds and hundreds of stars. Thousands." Kurt feels the air shift as he leans forward, nuzzling his cheek a little before resting his head on his shoulder. Instinctively, Kurt lifts his hands to cradle Blaine's shoulder blades, holding him close as he breathes him in. He can feel the heaviness of the storm creeping over them but he doesn't want to move, doesn't even want to think about leaving this place.

"It's perfect," Blaine settles on at last, kissing the side of his neck. "_You're _perfect."

Kurt smiles, closing his own eyes for the first time. "I love you, B."

Blaine leans up and, ever so gently, kisses his closed eyelids, saying simply, "I love you, too, Kurt."

And Kurt can't help but think that, despite the car accident that robbed him of his sight and the long, arduous recovery process that followed, despite the way that he'll never be able to _see_Blaine's face again or watch his expression shift from bafflement to wonder, he's happy. Because they still have this.

_And if we have a minute, why don't we go_

_Talk about it somewhere only we know_

_This could be the end of everything_

_So why don't we go_

_Somewhere only we know._

* * *

**Author's Notes**: The lovely _kettlebag _gave me permission to write this little drabble based on her drawing. I highly recommend you check it out (as well as all of her work) over on Tumblr.

Thanks for reading!

**Review?**


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